Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 December 1883 — Taking Up Some Plants. [ARTICLE]

Taking Up Some Plants.

“My dear,” said Mrs. Spoopendyke, looking up from her plate, and regarding her husband earnestly. “My dear, it is getting late in the season, and I’m afraid my plants will be spoiled by, the frost. Don’t you think it is time they wevetakpn in?” “I don’t know," reylied Mr. Spoopendyke, laying down his paper and pegging away at his breakfast. “I don t think anything will spoil those measly shmubs. Thev never bear anything, and I should thiifk they would do as well out doors all whiter as anywhere else.” “Yes, they do bear, too,” remonstrated Mrs. Spoopendyke, springing up in defense of the scrubby old bushes she had nursed for three or four years with the most exemplary patience. “One of them had a bud on last spring, and if they are kept in the house this winter, they will do splendidly next season.” “P’raps so,“ sniffed Mr. Spoopendyke. “If you think so, why don’t you take ’em up ?" “Won’t you do it, dear ?” smiled Mrs, Spoopendyke, sweetly. “I don’t think lam strong enough, but I will show you how, and I wish you would take them up.” “Come on!” replied Mr. Spoopendyke, dropping everything and preparing for the fray. “I’ll get those precious orchids up in about a minute. Come out and point your finger at the ones you are most solicitous about, and watch the operation.” Mrs. Spoopendye put on her bonnet and followed her husband into the garden. “Yon want to be a little careful with some of theih,” she suggested. “A good many of them are tender plants, and want to bd*handled gingerly.” “You trust me,” remarked Mr. Spoopendyke, grabbing a rose bush with both hands and giving a prodigious jerk. “Dog gast the bush!” he roared, as his hands slipped ogT, leaving twothirds of the skin behind. “Is that the thing you want handled tenderly ? Got any more of these sensitive exotics that can’t stand the frost ? Is this the thing that had the bud on it last spring?” and he took a fresh hold and ripped at the plant vindictively. Once more he slipped and left a little more hide on the thorns. “I didn’t mean that one,” squealed Mrs. Spoopendyke, her attention called, for the first time, to the bush he was hauling at. That one is to be covered up with straw.” “Oh, this is to be covered up with straw, is it?” demanded Mr. Spoopendyke, moistening his hands and preparing for s ' attack. "As I understand the thing, this particular shrub wasn’t to come up. All right. Only the shrub and I are looking at it from different standpoints. The shrub and you appear to see it alike, put I have got hold of the tail of an impression that it is very liable to come up, or have me for company, until it begins to bud again. Now, let’s see who’s right!” and Mr. Spoopendyke went at the bush again with a grim determination to conquer. But the bush held on, and in five minutes Mr. Spookendyke had left enough skin on the stalk to make a pair of gloves.

“Try some of the others said Mrs. Spoopendyke, in distress. “Begin on some of those little ones. I am more particular about those.” “I won’t," Replied Mr. Spoopendyke, gathering fresh energy from defeat. “Think if those little ones w ill come up any quicker if they»see me licked by this big one! Stand back and give me room. Something is going to give way now, or the bottom of this garden is coming out!” and once more the worthy gentleman went at his enterprise with portentous countenance. s This time the bush came up more suddenly than he had expected it would, and he landetj on his back among the other plants. “Told you .so!” he growled, as he fired the obnoxious bush over the fence. “Another time you make up your mind to wrap a thing like that in straw, you do it before I catch hold of it, if you want me to save enough hand to tell my fortune by. Next! Point out the additional greens to be rescued from the biting blasts of winterl This one of them ?” and he caught hold of a tough old geranium, “Come into the house Out of the cold 1" he cried, apostrophizing the’ plant. “Let the fate of the ether fellow be a warning unto you all not to trifle with Spoopendyke! Come forth tTom the teeming earth and be blessed with ligli and warmth in the

garret!” and he took a death grip on the plan| half way beneath the root and the top. “Let there be no holding back, but draw nigh and be saved!” and he leaned back, the leaves glided through ■his torn hands and down be came with a thump that shook the ground under him. "Another candidate for straw!” he howled, as he made another dive for the enemy. “One more drooping grave decoration born to blush unseen and waste its Spoopendyke on the surrounding districts! Let there be no misunderstanding about this! Let it not be said by comjng generations that this drooping old ghost of departed perfumes did not catch fully on to my measly designs!” and he jumped at the bush and- wound it around his hands. “The question before the house is, dirt cr Spoopendyke, shall the ground absorb him, or shall the dod gasted fruit of much cultivation let go its hold and come out of the garden, Maud!” and with this exordium, delivered with a yell, Mr. Spoopendyke broke the geranium off short and sent it over the fence to join the rose. “ You are losing them all,” cried Mrs. Spoopendyke, her face flushed and her soul vexed by the fate of her plants. “I wanted to save that one.” “Next year we’ll plant ’em the other end up, and then they’ll grow out of the ground of their own accord!” snorted Mr. Spoopendyke, making-for a tuberose. “Now’, let’s see what this thing is tied to! If it isn’t made fast to a Chinese laundry on the other side of the globe, we’ll see what the bottom looks like before the intense could sets in!” “Don’t pull that up!” protested Mrs. Spoopendyke in despair, “I only want to save the bulb of that!” “Hear what the lady says!” demanded Mr. Spoopendyke, grasping the stalk and spreading his legs for an unparalleled exertion. “We are indifferent to the upper works, but the bulb has become a matter of necessity! Put aside vain pride and show—!” but here he put in all his strength and rolled half way across the garden, crushing vines and shrubs and winding up against the fence with a crash that shook every board in it. “Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Spoopendyke, hurrying to his assistance. “Have you broken your back?” “Did any of the bulb get away?” inquired Mr. Spobpendyke, dazed by his fall. “Am Ito understand that the excavation was not a success ?” he brawled, recovering himself with a mighty effort. “Is there room for the display of any further horticultural energy?” he yelled, making for the spot where the stake came out. Don’t try to hide away from me! I shall linger in this vicinity quite late but what 1 will accomplish my dod gasted design! Come out mte the broad realm of nature, and let us commune!” and Mr. Spoopendyke plowed into the ground and brought up the bulb. “Is it this sweet potato that I have been grubbing away precious time that might have been spent in refreshing prayer?” he demanded with a look of infinite disgust. “Go forth, good bulb, on thy mission of fragrance!” he added with a howl, as he kicked the root with unerring precision into the neighboring lot. “Now for the rest of this hot-house! Lead me into green pastures and by sweet waters, where the balance of this measly matinee is located! Does this thing belong to the show ?” and he caught hold of a tomato vine. “Is there a bulb annexed to this thing of beauty and joy, until I get hold of it ? Be still, sad heart, nutil I get started !” and he wrenched the vine from the socket and flourished it around his head. “One more bulb to hear from!” and he pawed into the earth in vain search for the root, showering dirt in all directions. “There!" he puffed, when he had built a sort of a cave in the place out of which the vine had come. “I’m most through!” and he went at it again. “Dust thou art to dust returnest ne’er was spoken of this hole!” and with this peroration, Mr. Spoopendyke gathered himself up into a lump and came down hard on both feet in the excavation he had made. “I think you're real mean!” sobbed Mrs. Spoopendyke, who had watched the wreck of her flowers in silent wretchedness. “You have ruined them all!” “Haven’t either,” gasped Mr. Spoopendyke, out of breath from his exertions. “That’s all the gratitude ’ you’ve gotf ~™Tve watrnMlhesemeasly things up so that an Arctic winter Would only make ’em sweet. Got any more of this sort of business you’d like to have me attend to before I go to my legitimate occupation ? I’d, prefer to make one job of it, if there is any more job in it!” “No, there isn’t,” squealed Mrs. Spoopendyke, completely out of patience. “I wished you had never touched them!” “Do, do you?” jerked Mr. Spoopendyke, eyeing her with a sinister glance. “Perhaps you are inclined to think that I didn’t do the business with that deference to the preference of the plants you would like to have seen manifested! 1 s’pose you have some kind of a notion that you know more about this class of botany than the undersigned. Well, you haven’t, you hear!. This is my native tongue, and if it hadn’t been for me your measly old graevstones would have rotted, instead of being given to the free winds to disseminate their seed and bear abundantly unto the glory of the Giver of all Good! Get on to that proposition ? Got any objection to that reasonable statement of the facts in this particular undertaking?”

“I might have known that you didn’t know anything about it,” moaned Mrs. Spoopendyke, who was anxious to distract his attention from the fact that there several beds of flowers he had not marauded. “Might, might ye?” roared Mr. Spoopendyke, rising in wrath, as he found it impossible to convince his wife that he had done it all for the best. “Think ye might have known that I didn't know anything about it! With what ye might have known in this world, and what ye don't know, ye Only want a name carved in your back, and the paint scratched off, to be the front seat in the first class in a public school! Some day when it rains, and I can’t get out on account of the toothache, . I’m going tp fit you up with eight lan-

guages and a bad reputation, and start an intelligence office With you!” and with this tribute to his wife’s capacity, Mr. Spoopendyke plunged into the house, put his hat hind side before, and darted out to tell his friend, Specklewottle, that he thought something of buying the lot next door and raising fruit xiext season, as he was sure his experience in farming would stand him in good stead and see him through to complete success. “I don’t care,” murmured Mrs. Spoopendyke, as the door banged after him. and she sat to work to take up the remainder of the plants. “I have found out how much he knows about shrubs. Next spring when I get ready to plant, I’ll ask him to take up some more bulbs, and, when he gets through I won’t have to pay a man to dig up the garden!” and, with this wise disposition of her horticultural ability, Mrs. Spoopendyke finished her job and wrapped her roots up in some of Mr. Spoopendyke's old pants that he was sure to want to go fishing in. - -Drake's Travelers' Magazine.